A rolled piece of parchment fell out of the cold man's sleeve and onto the bright tile floor.

Hans bent to pick it up, expecting an aged clothes tag from what the body was in. "Final request;" read the first line. This, of course, intrigued Hans. His eyes greedily scoured the page for the next line, hungry for a rare piece of news.

"Tell jokes at the funeral..."

Hans was bewildered. At first he was frustrated that the note had not yielded its expected morsel, then furious that some one would pull such a prank. But then again, what if it wasn't?

A sudden wave of guilt penetrated Hans' normally cold shell, following the similarly rare flashes of emotion which had come before it. He had encroached upon this deceased man's privacy- and perhaps ruined his final wishes!

Frantically, Hans knitted his eyebrows in thought. Suddenly they shot up. He had an idea!